Son of the Phantom
by Feri-Sakari
Summary: SUMMARY INSIDE! Please read! Story WAY better than the summary! READ AND REVIEW!:3 HPHG and RWHG


**_Summary_**

In the past, when the Phantom of the Opera died, his spirit was concealed in a musical organ. His spirit is only to be freed by he who is worthy of his talent and musical potential. He, the chosen one, alone, by playing the Phantom's Organ, will bring him back and the story shall repeat itself. The only ones who knew the Phantom's secret were Dumbledore and McGonagall and they know that only one person can stop the Phantom...Christine. But with Christine dead, who will calm the Phantom's Spirit? It seems Ron and Hermione have a hard work ahead, for Harry is possessed by none other, than the Phantom of the Opera. Only Ron and Hermione will be able to free Harry from the Phantom's control and bring everything back to normal. Based on the movie version.

* * *

Hello, I'm Feri-san, I've not written in some months now. Well, this is my 2nd fan fiction in English, so be gentle. Anyways, this story is based off the movie version of the Phantom of the Opera, which I loved. Naturally, all the songs belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber, but I had to change some words in the lyrics just to fit the story. This is FAN FICTION so _obviously _I own nothing, except the idea of combining these two stories, Harry Potter and the Phantom of the Opera, into a single one, plus, adding some details of my imagination. I hope you enjoy reading this story as I greatly enjoyed writing it. 

Copyrights-

_Harry Potter_ J.K Rowling

_Phantom of the Opera_Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux 

Legend-

· "Talking.."

· _Singing…_

· _(Chorus..)_

* * *

"Son of the Phantom"

Chapter 1

'Angel of Music'

The Phantom of the Opera; People thought it was a legend, a myth, that it never happened, that it was merely a story told from generation to generation. Oh, how wrong they were. For the Phantom did exist, and he still lingers.

What happened to the Phantom, you ask? It's not a very long story, if you don't mind listening to it.

He slowly fell into sadness deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Soon after the 'Don Juan Triumphant' accident, the Phantom, whose real name was Erik, took Christine to his lair, closely followed by Raoul, Christine's lover, and the mob.

After the Phantom had told Christine to choose between him or Raoul, she had proven to him that, regardless of his dark soul and intentions, he was not alone. She had kissed him and had awakened in him the last bit of humanity hidden within his black soul.

After that, The Phantom let Christine and Raoul leave, making them promise that they would never come back and wouldn't tell anybody about his lair.

Just as Christine and Raoul were leaving, the Phantom had shouted after her: "Christine!" he had cried. Christine had turned around and shouted back to him, "I'll return!" She had said, "I promise!"

With those few words deep in his memory, the Phantom had waited, and waited, until his beloved Christine returned. But he waited in vain. She never returned.

In the last day of his life, he lied down on his bed, his music box playing 'Masquerade' incessantly. He held in his hand, close to his chest, a rose with a black ribbon wrapped around it.

"Christine…" he whispered. Then, he closed his eyes slowly, never to open them again. He sighed his last breath, still holding the rose close to his heart. The music box stopped playing, and there was nothing but silence.

The Phantom died.

But his soul remained restless.

After his death, in the theater, faint voices were heard muttering, "Christine…." over and over again. The chandelier shook ominously at times and a soft, faint eerie music was heard after that.

This began scaring the crew out of their wits, for there was no logical explanation for these mysterious happenings.

Only one person acted. Madame Giry, a powerful sorceress. No one ever suspected of her magical nature, for she had hid it well.

One cold night, Madame Giry descended to the Phantom's lair, where his spirit still roamed restlessly, waiting for Christine to come back.

Using a powerful spell, Madame Giry locked Erik's spirit in the organ he always played. She placed a powerful seal on the organ, which was only to be broken by he who possessed the Phantom's talent and musical potential. He, the chosen one, alone, would free the Phantom, and story should repeat itself.

Fearing that the chosen one could appear soon, Madame Giry had asked an old friend, a tall man with long beard and a crooked nose, to take care of the organ and put it in a safe place.

The old man had done as told, and placed the organ in a safe place, along with all the Phantom's belongings. The objects and the organ had been placed and locked up in a room in a place called the Department of Mysteries.

There, no one was allowed to enter and the room was sealed magically.

Some years later, several Ministry workers reported that they had heard an eerie, faint music playing somewhere. The building had been searched carefully, but no music was heard.

* * *

Darkness, total darkness. Howling wind flying past. You're moving, running. Then, a distant sound. Music. (1) It's music. Faint, eerie music. It becomes louder, and louder. Torches light up on the walls on either side of the corridor. In the distance, a door. A black door stands ajar, light filters through it. It comes closer and closer, the music getting louder and louder, stronger and stronger. The door bangs open. A staircase, a staircase going down to the center of a circular room. In the center, stands a big, rectangular object with huge, pointy, tube-like structures being covered with a big, parchment-colored blanket. The music comes from the object, gradually getting stronger. You run down the staircase, approaching the source of the music. Closer, and closer, and closer. Stop. Silence. Suddenly in less than a second… The blanket flies away, revealing an elegant golden organ. BANG! The organ explodes with a strong note. 

Gasp!

Harry woke with a start. He was sitting bolt upright in his bed, cold sweat drenching him. He panted, his chest heaving slightly up and down. He automatically drove his hand to his scar, even though it didn't hurt. Harry heard someone groan in the bed beside his.

"Harry?" said a sleepy voice, "You ok?" It was Ron. He was woken up by Harry's loud gasp. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. Harry had been invited by the Weasleys to stay at the Burrow this summer, and shared the room with Ron.

Harry nodded, rather shakily. Ron gave a big yawn.

"You had another nightmare, did you?" Ron asked

Harry nodded again. He slumped into his pillows, sighing, and closing his eyes for a moment.

"5th time this week, " Ron said, sighing too.

"Do you think it has a message? The nightmare I mean. " Harry said, opening his eyes,

" I've been having it for weeks. Do you think it's some kind of premonition or something?"

No response.

Then, Harry heard a loud snore. Ron had fallen asleep again. Harry smiled and turned on his side, pulling the blanket over him. He stared out the window at the starry, cloud-free sky. The moon shone brightly tonight. The crickets chirped melodically, soothing Harry slowly. The music. The eerie music Harry had heard in his dream came back to his mind. It quickly started to fade, to sound faint and distant, until it didn't sound anymore. This gave Harry an ominous feeling.

Harry stared a few moments more out the window. Then, he slowly started to close his eyes, until he finally drifted into sleep.

* * *

The next day, Harry awoke with a terrible headache. He kept having the same nightmare multiple times. Harry turned to the window, the sky was not clear anymore. It was gray, with menacing, black clouds. This didn't help Harry's mood. 

"Breakfast is ready!" Ron said cheerfully, "Let's go down!" Ron had already changed to his normal clothes, but waited for Harry. Harry changed as fast as he could, his head throbbing uncomfortably. He finally finished and nodded to Ron.

Both descended down the stairs, and then a door opened. Out came Hermione. Hermione had come to the Burrow too for summer break.

"Good morning!" she said happily, holding his bandy-legged cat, Crookshanks.

"Good morning!" Ron replied.

"Good morning…" Harry said, as he walked past them down the stairs. His eyes were half closed and tired.

Hermione looked worriedly at him.

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked Ron.

"Well, he didn't sleep very well…" Ron said. He and Hermione walked down the stairs after Harry.

"Had the same nightmare again. The one of the Organ." Ron said

"Oh," Hermione muttered, "Poor Harry. He's been having that nightmare for-"

"-5 weeks…" Ron finished for her.

"Yeah… Maybe if I brewed a Dreamless Sleep Potion…" Hermione said.

"You have certain tendency of meddling with illegal stuff, don't you Hermione?" Ron grinned.

"Well…I.." But she knew that was true. Dreamless Sleep Potion was only to be brewed by experts and specialized mediwizards, and she had already meddled with illegal stuff when she brewed the Polyjuice potion, a transfigurating potion, in her second year.

"Bad girl," Ron muttered slyly.

Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs. She grinned at him. He laughed at her.

The caught up with Harry and they went to the kitchen. Harry, instead, walked to the couch and slumped in it, closing his eyes and sighing.

"Are you not hungry? Don't you want to eat something" Ron asked.

"No, thanks…" Harry whispered without opening his eyes. His head still hurt, and he didn't feel like eating just now.

Ron shrugged. Hermione approached Harry.

"Are you sure you're ok? Is there something we could do for you?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"No, really, I'm fine. It's ok…" He said, opening his eyes slightly.

Hermione nodded "If you need something, tell us, ok?"

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. Suddenly, there was piercing hooting, a loud scream, and a growl. Hermione whirled around.

Pigwidgeon was zooming around Ron's head excitedly. Crookshanks had tried to catch him, scratching Ron in the process. Ron held Crookshanks away from him, the ginger cat snarling and growling.

"SERIOUSLY HERMIONE!" Ron shouted over the mayhem, "I'M GONNA KILL THIS CAT OF YOURS!"

"What do you expect?" Hermione screamed back, "He's a cat, it's in his nature trying to catch birds!"

"You told me that on our third year with Scabbers, remember?" Ron yelled "Hasn't your cat learnt some manners?"

Hermione frowned at him. Suddenly, Crookshanks slashed Ron across the cheek.

"ARGGHH!" Ron screamed, "I'VE HAD IT! WE'RE GONNA HAVE A NEW GINGER RUG FOR THE BATHROOM TODAY!"

"Oh no!" Hermione said, snatching Crookshanks from Ron's arms, "You're not doing anything to him!"

"That cat is leaving!" Ron yelled, his cheek bleeding slightly.

"Oh no, it's not!" she said.

"Yes he is!"

"No, he won't!"

"Let's leave it to voting, shall we?"

"Harry!" both shouted at the same time as they turned to face him.

But Harry was fast asleep in the couch. His chest heaving slowly as he inhaled and exhaled.

"Mmm… I think it's better if we let him sleep, don't you think? He's had a rough night." Hermione said.

"Yeah, we should… truce?" Ron said, holding a hand out to Hermione.

"Truce…" Hermione said. She held out hers and they shook hands.

The both sat down to eat breakfast.

"That cat is going…" mumbled Ron.

"He's not…" Hermione mumbled back.

Meanwhile, Harry slept peacefully. Then, without Hermione and Ron noticing, he grimaced in his sleep.

* * *

Harry sat in a seat on a huge theater. He looked around. There were wealthy-looking people all around him. He looked at the stage. There was a woman. She had long, curly, brown hair. She was singing, but she stopped abruptly. A maniacal laughter was heard. The people around Harry gasped and pointed to the ceiling. Harry turned around and looked up. 

A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling. It shook dangerously as a man's shadow, the source of the laughter, sliced the chain that supported the chandelier.

The chandelier came down; it flung over the sea of spectators. It was about to hit the ground, to land. It swung directly at Harry's direction. It came closer, and closer.. Then… POOM!

* * *

Harry screamed as he woke up. He was sweating and panting again. This nightmare… Harry thought. I hadn't had it before. 

Harry closed his eyes, placed his elbows on his knees and placed his forehead on his hands. He sighed deeply, shaking. He tried to calm down.

"Harry!" someone screamed. It was Hermione. She came running towards him, Ron behind her. She kneeled in front of him.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Harry nodded without looking at her.

"Was it the nighm-" Ron started, but was interrupted by Harry.

"It was another one this time…" Harry whispered. "A new one…"

"What was it about?" Ron asked.

"Dunno," Harry said, finally looking up at him. "I was in a theater, an old-fashioned one. There was a chandelier and a man. The man cut the chandelier. It fell…then I woke up…"

"Well… that's strange…" Ron said simply.

The three of them stood in silence.

Ron broke the silence.

"Well, Mum and dad, aren't home… Why don't we play Wizard Chess?" Ron proposed.

"Yeah, why not…" Harry said, absent-mindedly.

"Checkmate!" Ron said for the 6th time in a row while his queen slaughtered Harry's King.

Harry mumbled. He really wasn't paying attention to the game. He rested his head on his hand.

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and in came Mr. Weasley with a suitcase.

"Hello, children!" he saluted.

"Hi, dad!" Ron said.

"Hi, Mr.Weasley " Harry and Hermione said.

"Just came to leave this." He motioned at the suitcase. "And came for some papers…"

He left the suitcase on a chair and rummaged in a drawer, looking for the papers.

"Aha!" Mr.Weasley said. "Here they are!" he took out a bunch of papers.

"Well, I'm going back to the Ministry then…"

Suddenly, something clicked in Harry's head and he sprang up "Wait!" Harry said before he could stop himself.

Everyone looked at him.

"Uh..." Harry mumbled.., " Can't we go with you?" Something had made Harry want to go to the Ministry. He had an urge to go. But why?

"And why would you want to go? Not to wonder into the Department of Mysteries are you?" Mr. Weasley asked suspiciously.

"No! No, of course not!" Harry said quickly, " I just…"

"We were bored, can't we go with you?" Ron said. Harry thanked Ron in his mind.

"Oh.. Oh well, you can come then, but no nosing around ok? You've been in a lot of trouble already." Mr.Weasley said.

"Ok," the three of them replied.

Harry felt an unwilling satisfaction course his body. Like if someone else, rather than him, was feeling very happy at Mr. Weasley's answer.

* * *

"Let's get going then!" Mr.Weasley said. "We'll use Floo powder." Mr. Weasley took the cup with the floo powder that hang beside the fireplace. 

"Remember… say 'Ministry of Magic Atrium' loud and clear!" Mr.Weasley said. The three of them nodded as they took floo powder from the cup Mr.Weasley was holding.

"Ron, you first…" Mr.Weasley said. Ron threw the powder into the fireplace and the fire burst into roaring, emerald-green flames. Ron stepped forward into the fire and said loudly, "Ministry of Magic Atrium!" Ron disappeared in a burst of emerald flames.

"You're next Hermione…" Mr.Weasley said.

Just as Ron, Hermione threw the powder into the fire, stepped into it and said "Ministry of Magic Atrium!" she then disappeared too between the roaring flames.

Mr.Weasley nodded at him. Harry nodded back and started to make his way to the fireplace.

_…Angel…_

"What?" Harry said as he stopped in his tracks.

"Come on, Harry, no time to lose!" Mr.Weasley said, hurrying him.

Harry, hesitantly, threw the powder in the fireplace, and as the flames roared, he stepped into them.

"Ministry of Magic Atrium!" Harry screamed. The flames exploded and Harry felt the warm flames envelope him. He traveled through the swirl of colors and fireplaces around him, his eyes tightly closed. Finally, he felt his feet touch ground. He opened his eyes, feeling slightly dizzy.

He had landed on one of the many fireplaces placed along the Atrium's walls, people coming and going as they pleased through them. Between the crowds of Ministry workers, he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him. They waved at him and he ran to them.

"Hey," Ron said.

"Hi," Harry said panting.

"Where's Dad?" Ron asked.

"He's coming…" Harry said.

Harry wondered whether to ask Ron and Hermione if they had heard something. He was sure he had heard something before using the floo powder. He decided to ask.

"Hey, you guys… Did you heard something before entering the fireplace?" He asked.

"Heard something?" Hermione said.

"Yes, a voice, anything…"

"No, we didn't… Well, at least I didn't hear anything. Did you, Hermione?" Ron asked her.

"No I didn't…"

Harry lowered his head to think. He thought hard.

"You did hear something, didn't you?" Ron asked.

"Yeah… a voice…" Harry said.

"What did it said?" Hermione asked.

"Almost nothing. I just heard it say-"

But at that moment, Mr.Weasley had appeared behind them.

"Come on, children…Let's get moving before we get squeezed by this lot." He motioned at the moving crowds of employees.

Mr.Weasley walked quickly through the hall toward the lifts, the trio trailing after him.

The four of them stepped into one of the lifts. Mr. Weasley pushed a button labeled with the number '2'.

The lift noisily started to ascend as the grilles closed with a crash. A cool, female voice started mentioning the floors they were passing, until finally the voice said, "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

"Come on now" Mr.Weasley said. The four of them stepped out of the lift and walked through the rows of cubicles. They walked until they reached Mr.Weasley's office.

Mr.Weasley hurried into his desk, took out his papers and started reading through them. Just then, a little, flying memo came rocketing into his office. Mr.Weasley took it and read it.

Mr.Weasley frowned, pocketed the memo, and made his way out of the office. He stopped suddenly and turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Oh, yeah. Children, I need to go sort out something with Kingsley. Stay here, do not touch anything, don't wander, and most importantly, don't get yourselves into trouble!" He emphasized in his last statement.

The three of them nodded.

Mr.Weasley nodded and left.

"Geez," said Ron, some moments later, "It's not like we get into trouble that often…"

"Actually," Hermione said, "We do. Every year…. Every month…. Every day." Hermione smiled at him.

Ron smiled at her and laughed.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Hermione had turned more carefree, and often played with Ron. They fought at times, but those fights always ended up in reconciliation and laughter, and were always left behind.

Harry reclined on the wall, his arms crossed. He began remembering all the good times they three had shared, the trouble they had got into, and the difficult and dark times they had gone through. In all of that, they had always been together.

_Come to me…Angel of Music…_

"Huh?" Harry returned to reality.

"Did you say something?" He asked Ron and Hermione.

"What? No, we didn't say anything…" Ron replied, confused.

"But I just heard-"

Just then, Harry heard a faint, eerie music playing in the distance. He stood in silence, listening, and his eyes wide.

"Harry?" said Hermione, "You ok?"

"Uh, what?" The music had stopped and he had returned to Earth again. That music. Somehow, it had kind of hypnotized him. "Yeah…. fine…" he said absent-mindedly.

"Harry, you're acting weird…" said Ron. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"It's just… I keep hearing this voice..." He started.

"Which voice? I hear nothing…" Ron said.

"Yeah, me neither…" Hermione said.

Harry lowered his head. Why was he the only one that could hear that voice? Was he imagining things? Was he going mad? But the music, he thought, it's just the one of my dream.

As the silence reigned, it was broken by a loud "CRASH!"

Hermione whirled around to find Ron with a guilty look on his face. At Ron's feet, laid the debris of a shattered Sneakoscope.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed, "Didn't you hear what your dad said? DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!"

Ron smiled nervously.

"Uh…it slipped!" Ron said.

"Yeah, sure!" she said.

Harry watched them quarrel; he was still taken aback by the mysterious voice he was hearing, to actually care.

Then, he heard the music again, but it was stronger than before. The faint, eerie music sent chills down Harry's back. The music gradually grew stronger. He wanted to know where it was coming from. Who was playing it? He had to find out.

He decided not to disturb Ron and Hermione and to go find the source of the music alone.

He left the office, Hermione's reprimand on Ron growing distant as Harry advanced. He walked through the cubicles, trying not to attract any attention. After a few turns, he then walked towards the lift.

The grilles slid open and Harry stepped into the lift. It was empty. He waited, wondering what to do. He had to follow the music. Before Harry could even press a button, the lift started to descend on it's own, chains rattling noisily as the lift moved. The music grew steadily louder as he descended.

The cool, female voice talked over the music, saying each of the levels' names. The lift continued descending. Down and down it went. He passed the 5th level, the 6th, the 7th, and the 8th.

"Level nine," the female voice said, "Department of Mysteries."

The lift stopped roughly. The grilles screeched open, and Harry stepped out into the dimly lit corridor.

His heart pumping hard, he looked around. It was cold; his breath became steam as he exhaled. He walked a few steps. The music had stopped. Harry didn't like the Department of Mysteries, for it brought bad memories.

Suddenly, the music started again, now stronger than ever. As it played, it echoed through the walls. The torches flickered as if they trembled, scared, of the music. Harry stared at the plain, black door in front of him. He took a deep breath and walked toward the door, the music playing incessantly.

He opened the door. It creaked in its hinges. Harry found himself standing in the circular room with the handless doors. The candles flickered menacingly.

Harry left the door open; he didn't want the room to rotate just now. He listened intently, trying to hear where the music was coming from.

He approached each of the doors, listening hard, until he reached the one where the music was heard stronger.

Harry drove his wand out of his pocket. He held it firmly in his right hand. He held it so tight that his knuckles turned white. He raised his left hand shakily, and pushed the door slowly.

As the door creaked open, he peered inside. He only saw another corridor leading to a dark brown door. Harry stepped silently inside. Just as he set foot, the torches on either side of the corridor's walls burst alive. They illuminated the corridor dimly. Harry walked to the door, which, Harry noticed, was embroidered with gold designs running along the edge, the gold handle gleamed in the torches' dim light.

With every step Harry took, the music grew louder, and louder. It grew so loud and intense, that Harry thought of going back, but his curiosity and instincts kept him there. The adrenaline coursed his body as he approached the door.

When Harry reached the door, the music stopped abruptly.

His heart pumped hard against his chest. His breathing became heavier. He wondered whether to open the door or not.

_Come to me…Angel of Music…Come…to…me…_

Harry heard the voice again. The hissing voice became louder, and louder as it continued to sing. Then it stopped again.

Harry felt his own body overcome his will. He raised his left hand slowly. It shook as Harry placed it on the cold doorknob.

There was no turning back now. He had to see what was behind the door.

He turned the doorknob. Clack. Locked. The door was locked. Harry turned the doorknob several times, but to no avail.

He sighed, disappointed.

He lowered his hand and looked at the embroidered door some moments, as if expecting something to happen.

Seeing that nothing happened, he turned as to leave. Just as he turned around, he heard a soft _click_ behind him.

Harry half turned around. The door creaked open, slowly and ominously.

Harry gulped and approached the door once more. He walked silently through it and stopped.

He found himself standing in the topmost step of a giant staircase that conduced to the center of a large, circular room.

Millions of torches burst into life in the gigantic room, illuminating it completely. But what left Harry's mouth hanging open, was a humongous chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It looked dusty and pretty old. But it looked majestic nonetheless. It hung ghostly over a huge object in the center of the room.

With curiosity getting the best of him, he descended the stairs slowly. As he walked, he noticed several bundles covered in dusty blankets all around the room. Boxes stood piled one over the other. His steps echoed as he reached the landing. He stopped and examined the largest bundle of them all: The one of the center. This view seemed strangely familiar.

Then, something clicked in Harry's mind. His nightmare! This is just as his nightmare!

"What the-" but before Harry could finish, he felt some strange force envelope him.

He gave in into the force. He couldn't control his body or his mind anymore. His mind simply drifted away into the void.

* * *

"Now Ron, when someone tells you not to touch anything, you…" said Hermione 

"…Don't touch anything…" Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"Good. Okay, Harry, what were you-" Hermione turned as if to talk to Harry, but he was not there.

"Harry?" Hermione and Ron looked around.

"Where is he?" Ron asked.

Hermione's mind suddenly realized. She groaned.

"What? You know where he is?" Ron asked.

" I….I have a hunch… I just hope I'm wrong…" Hermione whispered, "Come!"

Hermione and Ron ran out of the office into the lifts.

"Hermione!" Ron called as they ran, "Hermione! Where are we going?"

But Hermione didn't answer. They both stepped into the lift and, without Ron noticing, Hermione hastily pressed a button.

Ron panted as the female voice spoke once again the levels' names.

The lift stopped as the voice said again, "Level nine. The Department of Mysteries"

"The Department of what?" Ron screamed. "Hermione! We are not allowed to come here! You know perfectly why!"

"I know! But…" Hermione stuttered as she looked around in the corridor.

"Besides, what makes you think Harry is in here?" Ron asked.

Hermione, eyes widened, pointed forward to the black door. It was open.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other nervously. Then, they ran through the door into the circular room. They found another door opened. The door that lead to the other corridor with the dark brown embroidered door. Ron and Hermione stepped forward and found, yet, another door opened. The brown embroidered door.

They peered through the door and their mouths hung open in awe at the hugeness of the room.

Suddenly, Hermione gasped.

"Look!" she said. She pointed downstairs. There was Harry, standing perfectly still.

"Harry!" Hermione called. But Harry didn't respond. "Harry? Harry what are you doing? Come back!"

Harry had started walking towards the huge object in the center of the room. Harry stopped a meter away.

He kneeled and took the edge of the blanket that covered the object. He stood up slowly, holding the edge of the blanket firmly.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed again, "Leave that there! Let's go!"

But Harry didn't listen.

"I'll go for him," Ron said. He ran downstairs toward Harry. He reached the landing and he approached Harry cautiously.

2But just when he was a few meters away, Harry pulled the blanket brusquely and an explosion of music reverberated intensely in the room. The room shook with the music. It played so intensely, that the chandelier looked close to breaking free and fall.

From the surprise, Ron fell backwards, his eyes wide in terror. Hermione gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth.

Harry stood there, holding one part of the blanket in his left hand, and his wand in his right.

The object revealed was a humongous, golden organ. It played on it's own in a ghostly way. The windpipes expulsed dust as they blew strongly. The music had an eerie feel to it.

The music sent chills down Hermione and Ron's backs.

Suddenly, Harry let go of the two things he was holding. His wand fell with a clatter into the stone floor, as Harry started walking to the organ slowly, in a trance-like way.

As he reached the organ, he pulled the seat back. He then sat on it, moved a bit forward and, incredibly, Harry began playing the song perfectly. Not a mistake. He played fluently and with energy. Hermione came running down with Ron. She helped him up, and both stared wide-eyed at Harry.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed in alarm. But Harry continued playing as if Ron and Hermione weren't there.

"I'll stop him!" Ron screamed over the strong music.

Ron then ran towards Harry, but felt a firm grip pull him, roughly, back.

Ron turned to look at Hermione, but found that it was Mr.Weasley who had stopped him and was now staring at him wide-eyed with terror. He pulled Ron back, away from Harry.

As the three of them, Hermione, Ron and Mr.Weasley, stared watching Harry, there was a loud crack. The three of them turned their head towards the place where the sound was heard. They found Albus Dumbledore standing there, with a panicked look on his face.

He then closed his eyes, groaned, and placed his hand on his forehead. Disappointment was clear in his face.

"Forgive me…Madame…" Dumbledore muttered.

Then, a loud CLUNK, and a piercing scream were heard. Everyone turned their heads back to the organ.

Harry had knocked over the seat. He was standing there, he was screaming in pain as he clutched both sides of his head with his hands. He screamed and winced, and the organ still played strongly by itself. Harry's glasses fell to the ground and shattered.

Harry then stopped screaming and opened his eyes wide. He stared into emptiness for a while, then, his eyes began drooping slowly, until they closed. His arms fell limply to his sides.

A strong gust of wind suddenly encircled the room, snatching away all the blankets, revealing the various objects they hid.

Then, a swirl of wind engulfed Harry as he opened his eyes suddenly. But they were no longer Harry's bright, emerald-green eyes that stared into emptiness. They were cold, lifeless, dull-green eyes, the ones that now stared into the void.

The wind around him became stronger. His hair flew back and combed itself back, just a few bangs of black hair remained. Harry's scar was clearer and brighter than ever.

It seemed as if he was transforming into another person, but it was still him at the same time.

A white aura surrounded him, and it traveled down, through Harry's body.

Harry's clothes were changing too. His muggle clothes were dissolving and leaving place to an elegant, black clothing. Black gloves formed in his hands as a large cape formed behind him, flying along with the wind. The aura shut off. Harry didn't look like he usually did anymore. He looked like another person. What was happening to him?

Then, a little white orb of light, the size of a coin, appeared in front of Harry. It began enlarging gradually, taking form of a plain, white object. A half, white mask now floated in front of Harry.

The mask began floating towards Harry's face. It finally reached Harry's face and stuck there.

Ron, Hermione, Mr.Weasley, and Dumbledore, couldn't see Harry's face, for he was standing with his back at them.

A blanket swished and went flying from the floor towards Harry. The blanket wrapped itself around Harry. It swirled madly around him like a tornado. Then, in less than a second, the wind, along with the music, stopped; the blanket then fell to the floor. But Harry was no longer there. He was nowhere to be seen.

He had disappeared.

The four of them stared wide-eyed and with hung open mouths to where Harry once stood.

"A-Arthur…" Dumbledore mumbled shakily. "Please take the children away."

Mr.Weasley nodded nervously and beckoned Ron and Hermione up the stairs.

Dumbledore stared now at the quiet organ.

"Please forgive me Madame. I failed…I failed…" he mumbled.

And no one but Dumbledore knew what really had happened.

No one , except Dumbledore, knew, that the Phantom of the Opera had returned.

* * *

(1) The eerie music is the first part of the "Phantom of the Opera" theme. Imagine it being played slowly and ghostly. 

(2)Try reading this part with "Overture" from the Phantom of the Opera OST.

* * *

Please excuse my poor English n,n; Please review.! 

Feri-san


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